Finding Me
by NotFlyingWithOtters
Summary: John Bloom needs to find who is is, can Martha help? T for hintings at rape


**Finally, after some constant nagging, have got the new category! So, first Identity fic, first of one I think, but anyway. It's a one shot with reasonable amounts of Jartha, enjoy (possibly slightly AU when we find out about why Martha wears those God awful clothes xD) (:**

In the aftermath of being a hostage, Martha had seemed to find something she was missing, it seemed that in her absence, the team had worked as hard as they could to find her; no, John Bloom had found her. Or was he Brendan Shay? That was one thing she could never understand, and she thought he didn't either. Who was he? She leaned back against the work surface in her house with a glass of wine in one hand and pondered. Who was he? It was infuriating to say the least. He had saved her life by risking his, and now he just seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth; even that infuriating woman Adile hadn't seen him since that day. Martha took another sip of her wine, nearly spilling it over her baggy jumper when there was a loud knock on the door. She wasn't expecting anyone. Warily, she placed her wine glass on the side and took a couple of tentative steps to the window, her heart leaping as she saw who it was.

John Bloom?

_Brendan Shay?_

Did it really matter who he was, he was here, and that was all that mattered. Pulling her unflattering jumper down so that it covered her navel and, to be honest, most of her legs too, she opened the door.

'Hello Martha.' His Irish tones drawled and he smiled as she stood back and granted him access.

'John.' She didn't know why she was being curt or unhappy, but she just was.

'I see you've stopped worrying about me then.'

'What?'

'"John! John are you okay?"' He mocked light-heartedly, but suddenly she felt her mood slipping and he desperately tried to turn the situation around. 'Hey, I was kidding.'

'I know.' She muttered quickly, taking another gulp of her wine. He gingerly reached over and touched her arm, startled by her reaction.

'I wanted to say sorry, you got kidnapped because of me.'

'I don't blame you, too much publicity for the unit, something had to happen to me.' She told him flippantly, almost facing up to her memory that would dog her continually until she died, but her trembling hands gave her away.

'I know you don't, but you're still scared.'

'No I'm not.' She whirled back fast before she even realized the tremor in her voice. 'I'm not…' She whispered, unaware if she was talking to Bloom or just convincing herself of it.

'Yeah you are.' He told her sensitively, aware that he was in way over his head, in water far to deep for him. 'Martha think about it, everyone would be scared if something like that had happened to them, constantly looking over their shoulder until…'

'Until what?' She snapped, now angry.

'I don't know Martha; I don't know what to do. I've been scared for you, worried Brendan Shay's associates would come after you again.'

'Brendan Shay?' She laughed softly, a sound he liked. 'Is that who you are?'

'Martha, you get it from me, I don't know who I am anymore; which I guess is why I joined the Identity Unit – to try to find out who I am.' He smiled. 'That sounded ridiculously corny right?'

'Right.' She smiled and he relaxed, the tension in the air reducing. 'You know something Bloom?'

'I know a lot of things.'

'Fine, I'm going to miss you when you leave, because God knows if you stay Anthony will have a coronary.' He snorted out a laugh, which made her laugh a little despite feeling as though her eyes were filling up.

'Yeah, I thought he never liked me… hey, hey are you okay?' He peered at her, assessing her like a doctor would.

'Yeah. Fine.' She brushed away the tears and took another drink from her wine glass. He took the glass from her hand and placed it behind him.

'No, you aren't.' He told her factually, back in familiar territory. After all the years in undercover work, he knew how to read people – and how to read people well. 'Martha, tell me, please.' She shook her head.

'I can't… it's… stupid.'

'Martha, listen to me, nothing you can say will be stupid.'

'And why is that?'

'Because you're a rational, forward thinking, smart young woman who has somehow made her way in a man's world.' He shot her a dazzling smile that melted her heart a little before she caught up on it and shut down completely.

'And that makes things I say non stupid why?'

'Because you're an amazing woman.' He sounded genuinely impressed. 'And, you know something else?'

'Probably.'

'Do me a favour and be quiet for a moment, did you know that as well as being a rational, whatever else I said woman, you're also beautiful.'

'What?' Martha subconsciously backed herself against the work surface until it hurt, angling herself so that she was far away from him. 'What do you mean?'

'I'm not kidding, you don't need to hide away beneath this.' He touched the hem of her long jumper and she crossed her arms over her chest, trying to stop shivering.

'I feel safer.'

'Safer about what? What are you hiding from?' He knew she was hiding something, knew she was protecting herself from someone, something. '_Who _are you hiding from?' She stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.

'What do you mean?' She reiterated, clenching her fist so tightly that it hurt.

'You're hiding from someone who hurt you, and who is it?'

'How did you know?' She whispered. 'I tried so hard to keep this quiet; nobody except me, him, the nurse and the two detectives who worked my case knows anything. How did you know?' She was trying to bite back tears and was failing up until the point he grabbed one hand and squeezed it.

'I guessed.'

'No you didn't, you knew.'

'Undercover work pays off… you hear things. I'm sorry.' He touched her other hand lightly and she looked up, biting her lip with her auburn bob in a slight tangle.

'No, no don't be.' She shook her head, her momentary weakness gone. 'I'm fine, really.' Bloom looked at her until she shook her head a little. 'Okay, maybe I'm not, but John, you don't have to worry about me any more.'

'Well why not?'

'You don't work with me any more, I'm out of your life.' She replied a little bitterly.

'Now why would I want that?' He asked her, rationalizing.

'I guess so you can go back underground with the sleaze of today's society.'

'Nope, I've had more than my fair share of undercover. I need to work out who I want to be now, Brendan Shay or John Bloom.'

'I preferred John Bloom.' She smiled weakly and then he stepped forwards slightly.

'You know what Martha? I think I do too.' That got her laughing then, although it was just a façade. 'What did he say to you?' He asked her softly. 'What did he say to you when he had you?' She swallowed uneasily.

'He knew.'

'What did he know?'

'He knew I… he knew I was depressed. He knew I had thought about… how to… kill myself…' Bloom stepped back a little. 'And from the look on your face you never knew either. I was so… shocked I could barely breathe.'

'But why?'

'I'm under so much pressure, and what happened to me… before…' She shifted uneasily from foot to foot under his scrutinizing gaze. 'I just couldn't do it; I was hurting so badly I couldn't even think about the next day until they prescribed me sedatives, anti-depressants. But they didn't work. They never work.' She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, conscious of Bloom's eyes boring into her.

'So you thought about how to end the pain, end the suffering right?'

'Right.' She reached behind her with a trembling hand and drew out a small bottle. 'Sleeping pills, and overdose would be… well…' Bloom was in shock.

'But… but why?'

'I couldn't cope with seeing his face every time I closed my eyes, every time I went to sleep; I was tired of being haunted by him. And I was scared of reliving everything…' She trailed off, biting down on her lip again.

'Does anyone we, you work with know about this?' She shook her head.

'No one.' Bloom walked up to her and gingerly stroked her face with a finger, wiping away the tear.

'Why?'

'I'm scared they'll shut down the unit.'

'No, that's not it.' She nodded slowly.

'It is.'

'Martha please, for once say what you mean, not what you think people want to hear.'

'Okay, I was scared he's come after me, he said he would if I told anyone.'

'So why tell me now?'

'He's dead.' The words shocked Bloom and he stepped back again, staring at the floor.

'How do you know that?'

'I saw him die, an armed response unit were working a case and I was there with them, helping rescue the hostages. He ran, so they shot him and I stood over him and let him see me, and then I walked away and let him die.' He shook his head slowly.

'Jesus Martha.'

'Jesus has nothing to do with it.' She smiled then, and settled back against the counter.

'So why not say anything now? Why not break the silence and tell the truth.'

'Because he still scares me, even dead.'

'He can't hurt you any more.'

'He's already hurt me.' They fell silent for a while, and then at last he spoke.

'You know, I came here to ask for my job back and to offer condolences, I didn't mean to turn into a councillor.' He smiled and was rewarded with a smile in return.

'No it's fine, I'm sorry for burdening you with my problems.'

'Martha seriously.' She laughed a little. 'Anyway, about my job…'

'Anthony will kill me.'

'But as you said, "I'm a great asset to the team." Come on please?'

'Okay. Okay, I know I'll regret this but okay.' He smiled and she felt a rush of… something. 'I'll be glad to work with you again.'

'Back at you.' But there was something in his face she couldn't pin down.

'What's wrong?'

'When they saved you… I… I felt like I didn't belong there, but you saying that has made me think that maybe I do.'

'Of course you do, you're a valuable…'

'Asset to the team. I know.'

'Always modest.' He tipped her a wink and smiled again.

'You now me Martha, not one to keep my mouth shut.'

'Well maybe you should.' She murmured, staring at the floor.

'What?'

'I said maybe you should.' She flushed, hoping he couldn't read minds.

'Now why would I want to do that?' He asked her, moving closer and closing the gap between them.

'So you can… actually, never mind.' They were playing a dangerous game now, something that was without rules and much understanding.

'No come one. So I can…?'

'Kiss someone.' Martha whispered quickly, hoping he wouldn't hear.

'Who?' The word was almost inaudible. She turned to face him after staring at the floor and found herself staring at him. 'You?' He shook his head. 'No, I think you'd kill me.'

'John?' He ignored her and kept rationalizing right up to the point where she kissed him; there he relaxed. 'I won't kill you. Now shut up.' He kissed her back this time, pushing her against the side, wrestling with his thoughts.

'Martha I can't.' He said when he finally stepped back.

'Can't what?'

'Can't do this, I'm sorry, I should go.'

'No, wait. Let me be the psychologist this time. What are you afraid of?'

'Martha, you know me as John Bloom right? Several very important people know me as Brendan Shay; and right now I don't know who I am.'

'So how does that change anything?'

'It just does okay.'

'Bloom listen to me. It changes nothing to me. I don't care if the mafia are after you… they're not are they?'

'No, they aren't. But why don't you care? What attraction is there?'

'You're my friend, we can get the Identity Unit to protect you.'

'I don't need protecting.' He was wary though, his guard back up.

'Bloom, let me in. Please. I need to know.'

'Know what?'

'Christ Bloom, we just kissed. Does that mean anything to you?' She was riled, angry at him and at herself.

'Of course it does.'

'Well you've got a nice way of-' His lips were on hers again.

'Shh… let's just, forget, if only for a little while.'

**Was that slightly OOC? Let me know ^_^**


End file.
